


A Review of Evangelion 4.0

by atrere



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Non-Diegetic, Other, Reviews
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 01:47:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20612927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atrere/pseuds/atrere
Summary: From the January 2014 issue of Newtype USA.





	A Review of Evangelion 4.0

**Evangelion 4.0: A Controversial Conclusion, or a New Beginning for Hideaki Anno?**

_by Steve Ashley, Newtype USA, January 2014 Issue_

Neon Genesis Evangelion has never been an easy franchise to be a fan of, but since the December 2013 release of Evangelion 4.0, the much anticipated finale of what has come to be known as the "Rebuild" series of pseudo-sequels, it has been downright painful. The first shakily-recorded clips from cameras snuck into Japanese movie theaters were dismissed as fakes in the American anime fandom, until a full length pirated release, complete with English subtitles, was released onto the Pirate Bay, from whence it spread to the rest of the internet. Perhaps anticipating the reaction, the anonymous translator plastered obscenities over the credits sequence.

Ostensibly, this article is a review of the film, but, appropriately for Evangelion, it will be more than that. Since the series aired back in 1995, it has always been subject to theorizing, both about the series itself, and the nature of its creation. Fans from that time will remember the numerous theories posted across BBSes and fan-zines about the possible themes related to bipolar disorder encoded in the narrative by its director and creative lead, Hideaki Anno, which were regarded as wild speculation before Anno himself confirmed them in a televised interview. Therefore, this review will not just be of the movie: it will also be the story of the reaction of fans, and of the theories, as unlikely as they are, that they have latched on to. After all, nothing is off-limits with this franchise.

The movie begins on a conflicted note: A new recording of A Cruel Angel's Thesis plays over a fully re-animated rendition of the opening sequence of the original series, extended to the full length of the song. Sharp-eyed fans will note that this sequence is based on a music video from 1996, released only in Japan, but the joy, the enthusiasm of it all is demolished by a smash-cut to the desolate wastelands that were once Earth. The central trio is miniscule in the frame, and this is how they remain for most of the film. It was considered a bold choice to cut Shinji from the narrative of most of 3.0, but it seems like the cost of his re-introduction is the minimization of the importance of fan-favorites Asuka, Rei II, and Shinji. Instead, at it's core, Evangelion 4.0 is about Kozo Fuyutsuki, the former right-hand man of Gendo, unrequited lover of Yui, and one of the least-examined figures in the franchise.

This choice is the first of many that has utterly divided both the fandom and critics. Extended flashbacks to Fuyutsuki's perspective before Second Impact, all the way up to the current day, make up the majority of the film. The present is only portrayed in snippets - And the impression this gives is that of a director who has become bored with the things others consider important. The sheer narrative density of these flashbacks, dealing with the interpersonal relationships of characters who have only been seen previously at a distance, and with the precise details of the machinations of SEELE, Gehern, and all three incarnations of NERV, completely recontextualize the Rebuilds, and the series itself. Evangelion is a series known for its obscurity: famously, the origins of humanity and the Angels were barely touched upon, only appearing in cryptic remarks in episode 27 of the original series, only being elaborated on in the Nintendo 64 tie-in games, and the exact nature of the feelings between Asuka and Shinji were only directly addressed in the ending theme of End of Evangelion, Everything You've Ever Dreamed.

This movie reverses all of that. We are given direct, clear information on what Adam, the Four Adams, the Second Impact, etc. are, and everything is laid bare. All the lore that was speculated upon by the fandom is either confirmed or denied, and a clear picture is given to us, as if to say "Hey, you've stuck with the series for so long, here's the answers you waited for." This reviewer even thinks this was foreshadowed with Gendo and Fuyutsuki's Antarctic expedition in 3.0, a plot diversion that, seemingly irrelevant to the pre-Fourth Impact section of 3.0, in retrospect sets up Fuyutsuki's narrative. One can read plenty of things into the relationships between Shinji, Asuka, and Rei through the trio of Gendo Rokubungi, Yui Ikari, and Kozo Futustuki, and I don't think that even in the grandest fantasies of the fandom anyone would have seen that _that_ was where the answers lay.

But, there's something sick to it all. Evangelion has, for so long, been defined by its mystery, its near-incomprehensible nature. The direct confrontation of its lore serves to make the audience, or at least, its more entrenched members, feel worried. Sick. "Kimochii warui", as Asuka once stated. And when the narrative finally, after nearly an hour and a half, snaps back to the present for more than a few minutes, that feeling is validated. Within the space of fifteen minutes, Fuyutsuki, Gendo, and the entire cast, minus the Three Children, are annihilated, and even they are given a cliffhanger ending (at first), of running from the gunfire of a resurrected JDSF. It is a sickening turn of events, and it deserves to be ruminated on - especially considering its position as the crux of so much criticism.

Throughout the film, along with the occasional flashes to the Three Children's journey through the wastes of Japan, we are shown the reconstruction of NERV. After its complete destruction in 2.0, and the creation of its reanimated husk in 3.0, helmed only by Gendo, a conflicted Fuyutsuki, and Kaworu Nagisa, and armed with body-horror variants of Evangelions and a clone army of Reis, NERV was considered lost. Misato and most of the original supporting cast chose to identify themselves as members of Gehern in 3.0 - a reference to the backstory that was only truly clarified in this movie - and if anyone expected anything, it was that it'd remain as thus. But in the snippets of contemporary narrative, we see Fuyutsuki's defection from Gendo, both seeming near-mummified in appearance. We see Fuyutsuki choose a path of denying Gendo's plans, much like Rei's denial in End of Evangelion, and we see him re-form NERV. After the changes in narrative of the last few years, it is a relieving return to normalcy - and it is snatched away from the audience at the last moment.

In the climax of the film, NERV's efforts to reconstruct the world through "Lillim Reclaimers" (trust me, it makes sense to us superfans) succeed. The candy-red world coated with crystallized Evangelions and frozen crosses begins to revert to what it had been before not just the Fourth Impact, but before the Third Impact. There is an implication that even the Second Impact could be reversed, which would take the franchise back beyond the point of divergence from our own history, which - I don't know about you - makes this reviewer uncomfortable. Like the sensation of a fantasy novel suddenly talking about the impact of the War of the Taiwan Straight - real events shouldn't intersect too closely with fantasy or science fiction, I think. The world of sci-fi or fantasy is a hypothetical, and while I won't get into it too much, Aristotelian literary theory states that a level of fictionality allows us to reach higher truths, and robbing a story of that hypotheticality robs it of its ability to, intrinsically at least, reach that higher truth.

Anyway, this potential conflict of narrative is avoided through the worst possible means. Throughout the film, the reconstructed NERV, helmed by Misato, Ritsuko, Fuyutsuki, and the ever-beloved Bridge Bunnies (shout-out to my main man Aoba) anticipates the return of its heroes - The three Children. And, to their great rejoicing, Rei is the first to return to them from the wastes. But, alas, it is not the Rei II we know and love. She is clad in black, with orange accents, a complete reversal of her archetypical white and green. Even her hair is switched from blue to black, but more could be accepted in the face of an apocalypse or two - of course, NERV welcomes her into their midst. She speaks no words - again, not suspect to these characters; Rei is a girl of few words, and she has gone through much trauma since she last saw them.

But we, the audience, know she is not the Rei we've spent scant time with throughout the film. She is brought to the command center of NERV, a reconstruction of the bridge so emblematic of the original series, to be welcomed back to the fold by Misato, but we are given a sense of the gravity of the situation by the deafening silence. One would expect some kind of musical queue, but instead, there is silence. Rei - Rei Omega, so awkwardly named by fans - opens her mouth, and screams, with no sound. One by one, the characters we have grown so attached to fall, dead, expressions of betrayal and fear on their faces. There is something to be said for the talent of the animators in this scene - Much like a special effects artist in a horror movie, they found precisely the level of distortion of expression that seems both at once beyond any natural expression and on-model. The effect is unsettling, and when Evangelion 4.0 releases on Blu-Ray, I intend to skip the scene on every re-viewing. The camera shifts, from over the shoulder of this Not-Rei, to tight focus on Aoba and Fuyutsuki, watching the tragedy unfold. Quickly, we cut to a decrepit Gendo Ikari, finally consumed by his failures, meeting the same fate at the hands of another silently screaming Rei. He looks, for all the world, like one step removed from being a zombie, and he passes in peace. The scene returns to Fuyutsuki and Aoba, both collapsing, clutching at their chests. Fuyutsuki apologizes, and Aoba questions if he knew this was a possibility. "Yes," is the simple reply, and Fuyutsuki, as his narrative did throughout the previous hours of the film, explains. Gendo, if he could not be reunited with his wife, would rather see everyone die at her hands. Aoba cracks a joke in response, and they both pass, smiling sardonically.

At that point, the narrative breaks down. Quick cuts straight out of Saving Private Ryan show Rei II, Asuka, and Shinji dodging artillery aimed at NERV's headquarters, as if no time at all had passed from the assault in End of Evangelion. It goes without saying that this continuity does not _have_ that event, and yet, here it is. We cut away to a ten-minute sequence of abstract crowd shots in live-action, reminiscent of those of End of Evangelion, but without meaning or purpose, as far as anyone has discerned. And then, almost perfunctorily, a text card on black appears: "Fifteen Years Later", and we are given a soft-focus scene of an adult Shinji and Asuka tending to their young daughter, with Rei II laughing beside them. The world is at peace.

From the position of someone not invested in the series, this may appear to be a perfectly fine ending. But from the position of a critic, or a hardcore fan, it may as well be a giant middle finger. We are not given the character development that would be required to bring us to the point we see. In fact, all the answers, all the fantasies of the fandom over these last twenty years, are given so freely and so without weight, without gravitas, that none of it seems to matter. Reviewing 4.0 as an individual movie, it feels like a magnificent work of art with a framing narrative tacked on - if all the parts continuing on from 3.0 were removed, it would be on par with anything made by Scorcese or Wells, an incredible portrait of a tortured individual pushing themselves to extremes for the sake of, and in spite of, their own psychological failings.

But 4.0, as part of Evangelion as a whole, is awful. It is unfinished, and it leaves the audience unsatisfied, refusing to finish in any meaningful way the emotional development of Evangelion's leads, the Children who have been marketed across the world.

This, here, is where my review turns, and anyone who wishes to avoid conspiracy and utter nonsense can stop reading here. 5/10, watch once but don't purchase the Blu-Ray, except to support Tiffany Grant's likely incredible English rendition of Asuka, etc. etc.

The fandoms, both Western and Japanese, have latched onto the idea that this entire film is a red herring of sorts. This is not entirely without precedent - A season of Sherlock was entirely re-contextualized by the release of a fourth episode - and the fans have many reasons to think so. Evangelion's sordid production history has long been subject to conspiracy theories, and Anno's complete disappearance from social media following the release of 4.0 certainly doesn't discredit them. Since the release of 2.0, a theory has been floated across the internet that the Rebuilds of Evangelion are 1. Not a four-part series, as advertised, and 2. an attempt to reconstruct the themes of Evangelion as Anno intended. While recent anime fans may be familiar with the "nice boat" ending of School Days, in which an episode was hastily prevented from airing due to a real-life tragedy, Evangelion was much different. In reaction to the helicopter attack orchestrated by Aum Shinrikyo, most of the anime industry paused their production for several weeks, as the greater Tokyo metropolitan area came to terms with the events, and recovered. But Gainax reacted in quite the opposite way: Evangelion was not just released on time, but its run was extended by an episode. This was claimed as an act of defiance, and seen as quite patriotic, in a fashion, but it has been speculated that the ending was not in accordance with Hideaki Anno's vision for the series. This speculative fire was stoked by the release of Death and Rebirth of Evangelion, and then End of Evangelion in the following years, providing an alternate, or perhaps concurrent, ending to the series. Anno, in interviews, has expressed vaguely that his creative vision was somewhat impinged upon, and it was largely expected that the Rebuilds, when they were announced, would bring that vision back to life.

Of course, there are the realities of business to contend with. Gainax, in the years leading up to the Rebuilds, had been rocked by no less than two attempts to build competing studios - One by Hiroyuki Imaishi, and one by Hideaki Anno himself - which were legally quashed by retroactive non-competition agreements. So, while there was much promise with the Rebuilds, there was also an expectation that they would not live up to expectations - one that, perhaps, has been borne out.

In the relative free space of the bizarre "Next Episode Previews" at the end of the last three Rebuilds, we have seen trailers for movies that never came to exist. While the more rationally-minded tend to see this as simple changes in production, many saw this as evidence that a parallel series was being worked on, one that was being previewed by the endings of these movies. Some kind of A.0, B.0, C.0, D.0, or some other nomenclature - the terms have varied throughout the fandom. And these fans have found ample evidence in 4.0 to support their theories.

Both Japanese and English-speaking fans saw that, perhaps, this was not a proper ending, and picked out small hints in dialog, but it was the North American fanbase who picked out what is considered to be the largest piece of evidence - The second ending theme. The first is, of course, a lovely remix of Tamashii no Refrain, as to be expected, but the second, playing over the deep credits, was something else entirely. It was Nine Inch Nails' 1993 smash hit, Angel. To most, this is an odd choice, but nothing more. However, to those nerds who were deep in the throes of piracy in the early 2000s, it signifies something different. On Kazaa, Morpheus, Limewire, and other early filesharing software, the song was consistently mislabeled as a track off Vinyl Sun's debut, and only, album, Vinyl Sun. As a single that received little publicity, due to its music video's preemptive banning, Vinyl Sun was thought by many to be the actual artist. Now, what is the relevance of this? Well, the narrative, as fans have agreed upon, is that Anno is signaling that this movie, just like the song, is being attributed to the wrong individual. This movie is not his own vision - instead, it is what he could not help but create under the pressures of his studio. And, as the theory goes, he has disappeared to establish his own studio that will produce the missing four movies that will complete the story.

Now, in this whole debacle, in this magazine, I suppose there's one question to be asked.

What do I think?

Well, I think that Anno's disappearance speaks for itself. It hasn't just been from social media, you know. And so does the anger and disbelief of the fanbase. There's been a sense of detachment - of disassociation - percolating through the internet. Wakachan's /yuu/ board, dedicated to nostalgia for places one has never experienced - saudade, I believe the word is - has been flooded by crossposts from asuka-langly-sohryu.com and other Evangelion fansites. Some think that the sense that something is horribly wrong with all of this is caused by narrative meddling, or by some other constraint. Personally, I think Anno was trying to convey something entirely different. Something on a deeper level.

I hope this makes it to my editor, and I hope that she publishes it both unredacted and with utmost haste. I am formally tendering my resignation, and I'd like to say, to all of you: Thank you, and congratulations.


End file.
